I came to Boston this year with two goals: to requalify with a sub-3:30 and to run hard but smart. My training didn’t follow the typical marathon build. I started on March 6 with just a few short weeks to prepare, averaging 20 miles per week and squeezing in four longer runs once a week—9, 13, 15, and 16 miles.
This time, it wasn’t my physical health holding me back—emotionally, getting to the start line felt like a lot of work. I had planned to run this race for the past year, but the weight of my divorce left me feeling debilitated, struggling to find purpose and overcome with grief. I had to force myself back into motion—on the treadmill. I needed something to literally propel me into movement. Sometimes, when it was really hard to get myself to run, I would set the treadmill on a decline and put on my fastest shoes just to make it possible. Convincing myself to just go for a three mile run felt so mentally hard and draining to do, while knowing that I needed to run so much more than that. I just did what I could and felt it was better than nothing. During the days my mind was flooded with unknowns and distress about my situation—until I started running again. I feel like that’s when the healing began, working from the inside out. Having a steady return to movement gave me clarity and purpose again.
I flew out to Boston, grabbed my packet and mentally prepared for the race. I slept well and woke up feeling refreshed. I found my way to the start line in the first corral of the third wave, right at the start line in Hopkinton, I was ready to run my best for the day.
I locked into my plan: keep my heart rate around 175 and run to my threshold in the final miles. I ran the first 5K in 23:49 and wondered if I could sustain it, especially given how undertrained I was. But I decided to run by feel—and I felt strong. I hit the 10K in 45:47 and continued to feel fresh until mile 11 when I started to feel some fatigue set in. I remembered a tip from Featherstone Nutrition: if you start to feel tired, take a gel—even if it’s early. I adjusted my fueling plan from two gels per hour to three, along with Gatorade, and just like that, I snapped back into gear. I hit the half marathon mark in 1:41 (7:49) and was happy my pace was still on target.
At mile 14, I took a my first caffeinated gel and within five minutes I felt like Sonic. It seemed I started flying while passing, what felt like, hundreds of runners each mile. By mile 16, I was excited for the hills to begin. I was ready to attack the rolling climbs between miles 16 and 20. In March I started working diligently with my PT to gain muscle back in my legs, but this time even better than before. At mile 20, I started pressing into a progressive finish. I felt invincible. The last mile and a half I was running in the 6:40s, with involuntary bouts of laughter to myself—high on endorphins and gratitude. I finished in 3:25:16.
For the first time in the ~16 marathons I’ve completed, I walked right by the med tent and didn’t need to go in. That’s how I knew my health was finally in a good place. It was a huge contrast to the last time I ran Boston in 2021—undertrained after just having a baby and horrendously trying to manage a new autoimmune disease. That year, I finished in 4:14. I stumbled into the med tent with a 105-degree fever and was put into the “ICU” area, separated by a curtain. Someone said, “she needs fluids” and without notice, they pulled down my running shorts inserted a tube into me from behind. That was a first but, also at the finish line? Steve and I used to joke, “from the ICU to the streets in minutes.” 😂 They don’t play around in Boston! What a stark difference from then to now.
Now, reflecting back leading up to the race, I feel like making myself train helped me process grief. It’s made me feel like I’ve had more strength to show up more fully as a mother and for myself, during one of the hardest time in my life. So happy for the experience and to stretch myself when my capacity seems full. Running gives me the resilience to keep showing up. Running is hard—it’s always hard for me. But it strips me down and shows me I can suffer, adapt and keep going both on the road and in life. Forever grateful I can run.
| 
